


Rolling in the Mistletoe

by Canadian_BuckBeaver



Category: Undertale (Video Game), underswap
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Music, Christmas Presents, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Protagonist, Grillby's, Inspired by Music, Spoilers - Undertale Pacifist Route, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:13:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadian_BuckBeaver/pseuds/Canadian_BuckBeaver
Summary: My Secret Santa for the amazing @rolling-in-the-undertale She asked for anything regarding her and her wonderful bonefriend, Underswap Papyrus.  Well, normally Bucky isn’t one to share but hopefully you like this  ;D





	Rolling in the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KariganFirestone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KariganFirestone/gifts).



Things are a little bleak for Jen.  It is the monsters first time experiencing Christmas on the Surface, and Papyrus’ brother, Sans, needs everything to be absolutely perfect for Santa’s big arrival.  Between Sans, work, and the loss of her ring, Jen isn’t feeling much of the Christmas spirit.  However, perhaps all it takes is a little help, nudge, and pun from her favourite orange hoodied skeleton to feel the magic of the holidays?  Or perhaps it takes a little more to see the sparkle?

[[MORE]]

Jen sighed, stretching out her back and arms, finally ridding herself of the kink in her back that had plagued her for the last three hours. It had been a long, long day.  One that she was happy to say was finally over.

As much as she loved little Sans and his enthusiasm, there were some days that she just wanted to be more like Papyrus and nap the day away. This had been one of them. She and the lanky skeleton had been up half the night wrapping “Santa’s” gifts. This was a task in itself.  Between the tape getting stuck in her hair, or paper getting caught between Papyrus’ finger bones, that task alone had taken forever.  But throughout the course of the year presents had been stashed in many different secret hiding places.  Many of these hiding places that had been forgotten and needed to be re-found so they could wrap. Trying to tiptoe around the squeaking house to avoid waking up Sans… well, it was something that will not ever be repeated. By the time that the wrapping was done, tape and scraps of wrapping paper were scattered around the room and in her hair, the sun beginning to peek into their window. After a quick dust and dump, they were finally in bed. She herself had fallen asleep almost instantly of her back hitting the soft mattress. She did not want to be woken up at the crack of dawn with Sans’ new To-Do List. When he shook them awake, she was shocked to discover that his list would have rivalled Santa’s list. Hadn’t they spent the entire year prepping for this one day, hell, one mere morning? What more was there that needed to be done? Yet, little Sans had indeed found more that needed to be completed.

Yet, that wasn’t the only situation that was spoiling her holiday mood. The week before, she noticed that the cheap, plastic ring that Papyrus gave her, her “promise ring”, was missing. Not wanting to alarm Papyrus she had slowly cleaned and torn the house apart, desperately looking for it.  Physically, it wasn’t worth much, but… she remembered when he had first given it to her.

* * * * *

Papyrus and her had a rare day off together, and had decided to go the movies with Sans. Napstabott was living his dream and slowly taking over Hollywood’s biggest roles, and he had generously invited them to see one of his new movies with some free movie tickets. Some of the results, however…

“I’m not sure. I think that I still prefer the original Terminator movie. I just can’t see an evil, robot assassin will suddenly start serenading you while they are chasing you through the factory.” Jen had said, walking out with the skeletons. 

“Aw. So you think that they were tinkering with the wrong movie for him?” Papyrus asked, giving her a wink and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. Jen took a deep breath, smelling the familiar scent of cigarettes and honey, now intertwined with the hearty scent of fresh popcorn. His soul was thumping steadily, a stark comparison to her wildly thumping heart.

Sans had paused then, catching sight of the quarter machines by the doors. “These are an odd type of vending machine, Jen.” He remarked, eyeing the hard, sugary treats with slight disdain. 

“Not really a vending machine, more like a Kinder Surprise Egg without the chocolate… and the illegalness.  I haven’t seen these Look at these in forever! Look at these! Bouncy balls, gumballs, glow in the dark dinosaurs…” Jen had listed off, already feeling her inner child’s joy bubbling up in her chest. She used to be obsessed with these when she was younger. “Oh! Look at the jewelry!” she had said, catching sight of the cheap doodads. Plastic rings, elastic necklaces and fake brass bracelets. Anything that could be fit in a small plastic container.

“Those aren’t real though, are they Jen?” Sans had asked, looking at the reflective pendant of one of the necklaces.

She shook her head. “Probably just made out of super cheap materials, designed quickly for a laugh and a single wear before they break. The same stuff and quality that you would get out of the dollar store.”

Papyrus, however was looking at Jen as she looked at the jewelry. She didn’t have much for accessories, though the more that he thought of it, the more he realized that he had never seen her wear anything fashionable. A watch on the odd occasion. Digging through his shorts pockets he pulled a quarter from his pocket. “Kiss it for luck?” He asked Jen, winking at her.

“Papy! Do you know how many germs are on that?” Sans demanded. “That’s disgusting!”

Jen, flushing slightly, opted to kiss his thumb instead. With a quick plink and plunk, the quarter bid them good bye. A quick twist of the wrist and a plastic container, coincidently with an orange lid, fell out of the machine. Burning with anticipation, Jen removed the lid… and saw it.

It looked like wires that had been painted gold, twisted and braided in enteric little shapes to form a band. A dark bead was wound in the centre, finishing the ring’s look. Jen and Papyrus stared at it. It was so simple, so… perfect.

Carefully picking it out of its container, Papyrus knelt to the ground. “Jen. I don’t have much to offer now. I’m broke, I’m addicted to honey, my smokes and all things sweet, but I’m also addicted to you. So, perhaps later, when we are ready, will you…?”

“Yes….” Jen breathed, extending her right hand. As if by magic, it fit her perfectly.

* * * * * 

But now it was gone, gone as if it never existed.  

Somehow she had preserved. Between baking or burning cookies, assuring Sans that Santa would find him and Papyrus in their new home, cleaning (so much cleaning!!), hanging up yet another wreath, and still another day of not finding her ring, Jen had been able to escape the house, just in time for her shift at Swirllby’s. There was a fairly convincing smile on her lips, but if questioned she could blame it on the cold or snow in her boots.

Swirllby, after escaping the Underground, had opened up a bar on the Surface, one that had quickly become popular with both humans and monsters.  During its beginning days, it had assisted with the merging, and then the peace between both of the races.  Specializing in all foods greasy and drinks alcoholic, surely it would be the perfect place to get away from the holidays, at least for a little bit. Looking back days later, Jen would chuckle at her desperate thinking. If she thought that she was free of the Christmas chaos, she was sorely mistaken. Just cracking open the door of his bar caused a few well known carol notes to escape, and the thick smell of pine to assault her nose. The place was full of the Christmas spirit.  Out of the frying pan, and into the fire as they said.

* * * * *

Working Christmas Eve should be illegal, Jen decided a couple hours later, her feet aching and her back screaming in pain. Swirllby was a good boss and chef but some of his patrons were… well, they left a little to be desired. No consistency, no rhyme or reason. The monsters were just as crazy as the humans these days. Now the regulars were wonderful as always, understanding and sympathetic, and always had a kind word or simple encouragement to her, asking about Sans and Papyrus. These were the ones that Jen had come accustomed to, even looked forward to seeing every night.

But, as always, there were others she had to shake her head at. If you’re spending your Christmas Eve in a busy bar, complaining and about how busy and unprepared they are this holiday season, than you are in the wrong place.  You would be better using the final countdown to prepare for the big day, doing anything and everything to make sure that everything was prepared and ready as it could be. Instead, Jen bit her tongue, holding back her inside voice, and nodded sympathetically as they groaned and moaned, tossing down glass after glass of the special rum and Eggnog concoction that the fire bartender had made especially for the occasion.

Then there were the “holiday over-achievers”.  These were the people or monsters that were finished preparing for Christmas, baking done, wrapping completely finished and trees up and decorated as early as October or even in November. They were the ones that were truly enjoying the holiday spirit, basking in the warm glow of candlelight, cheeks rosy from sleigh rides, and the ones that reeked of turkey or ham or other holiday cooking. The very picture of health and relaxation. They were probably not the kind of people that a certain skeleton wouldn’t be explaining how to string a evergreen decoration properly through the banister, thoroughly saying how it would properly impress Santa by the number of twists in the length. If Jen didn’t know any better, she could have sworn that they just came off of posing for a Christmas card. She blankly nodded, pretending to make note of their special tips or their ideas, remembering their secret family recipes… the list went on. She felt herself salivating as she listened to them talk about butter tarts and cookies, cakes and pies. Sans would have fit in this group better here than her. He would be the one that would be naturally making conversation with them, listening to their talk and better contributing. Of all the times that she had needed the blue-eyed skeleton… well, by now he would be home in bed, visions of sugar plums dancing around in his skull. Papyrus, would be either asleep on the couch or in their bed, snoring soundly. The thought made her yawn, her body weary… but no. She still had much more remaining of her shift.

To complete the cozy picture, there were few Grinches or Scrooges that had settled up some sort of anti-Christmas convention, braving the holiday carols and snow to congregate together. They were noticeable by their dark, sparkle-less eyes, their closed expressions. Their mission? It was very simple. Try to bring everyone else out of the “conspiracy of Christmas” and to their dark side. They would whisper about consumerism, encouraging people to spend more and more, buying their friends and family more presents, sending more aide and donations to the various charities that always popped up this time of the year. How Christmas couldn’t be real because it was a holiday that originally belonged to the pagans, and how December 25th really couldn’t be the real, true birthdate of Christ. Jen nodded silently, listening to them as they drank shot after shot of whiskey, listening to them babble about the Fibonacchi sequence and the Mona Lisa, how it was all a big conspiracy and how they needed to alert everyone to their findings.

But, especially the stringy Scrooges, these patrons fit their description perfectly. It just wasn’t a good night for tips. Heck, she’d much rather be at home watching the Christmas specials or anime with Papyrus, Sans and the others. Sans had been wanting to watch the anime Parasyte for some time now, though she had a feeling that she would be spending it cracking awkward jokes with Papyrus, ignoring the gore and blood on the screen.

But, it was finally over. Last call was called and served, and the crowd of people finished their drinks. Sometime during the duration of her shift, a minor blizzard had blown in, whipping up snow and ice, and then the fresh snow fall thickly falling from the skies.  Hugs, kisses and many well wishes later from the clients and the bar slowly began to empty, people and monsters beginning to start for home. After Swirllby finally kicked out the remaining, lingering clients, the bar was finally, mercifully empty, even the last notes of the carols ceased. All that remained for her was a quick scrub of the bar and tables before her shift was finally over. Finally she was off, wishing Swirllby a Merry Christmas before starting off in the miserable weather. The snow was blowing around her, able to bite through the numerous layers she wore and chill her, while snow made itself at home in her boots. It was times like these that she wished that she had the ability to use Papyrus’ shortcuts. No cold or wind. No long, unnecessary walk. Just a quick little blip, and a quick gasp of darkness and she would be home.

Or better yet that Papyrus had shortcutted to the bar to save her from this horrid walk.

Then again, it was only a few blocks. She could already hear Sans telling her not to be as lazy as his brother and just do it. No problem… right?

As she began the long walk home, she slowly watched the snowflakes dance with the Christmas lights.  The flakes shimmered with the different colours, taking on reds and yellows, blues and greens before they settled on the ground. It was rather peaceful, quiet tonight. Not even a car drove by, not even another pedestrian walked by her. She had these sights all to herself. “Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…” Jen whispered to herself, allowing herself to smile, before continuing on her journey.  She slowly walked, allowing herself to take in the sights and the joy of the silence. She decided that she would go home, run herself a quick, warm bath to warm up, before crawling into her pyjamas next to Papyrus and hibernating, at the very least, until the next night. 

* * * * *

Thirty minutes of trudging through calf-high snow, for thirty minutes she had been watching the slowly passing displays of Christmas lights glow and blink at her, of darkened and peaceful houses. Thirty minutes of the wind howling through her ears, and snow stinging her eyes. Thirty minutes of hell and she was finally home. Her holiday mood was now long since destroyed, replacing it with a bah-humbug air. It might have been the third puddle she had stepped in, or the wad of snow that fell a tree. Now Jen just needed inside, a bath, and a week of sleep. She grumbled to herself, finding the porch light again turned off. No matter how often you mentioned it, the skeletons never remembered to leave the porch light on for her, leaving her in the literal dark. Grumbling slightly, she dug out her key out of her pocket and fumbled with the lock. After a few tense moments, the door’s lock finally gave with a small click, and was finally opened. Stepping through the door, she shook the snow from her long, dark hair, kicking off her sodden boots and flicking on the living room light…

Exposing a very skinny Santa, caught in the act of loading up the Christmas tree.

She froze, staring at the tall and lanky skeleton.  The red suit and pants dangled off of his skinny frame.  The pants were physically tied to his hipbones with his belt, reminding Jen of how those ‘baggies’ pants that were in style in the 1970’s or so were worn.  The red fur jacket was draped as flatteringly as a nightgown and the little Santa hat was hazardously sitting on his skull.  If a gust of wind had managed to come down the chimney, it would have fallen off in an instant. For a moment they stared at each other, “Santa’s” magical orange irises dimming into a familiar, tired gaze. “Hey Honey,” Papyrus said to her, again turning to the tree. “Rough shift?”

She couldn’t help it. After the stress of the long day, and the depressing walk home, this is exactly what she needed to come home to. She started to giggle, trying vainly to cover her mouth to keep quiet.

“Stretch… oh my god… oh stars… I knew that you would be putting the presents under the tree tonight but… what is with the get-up?” She asked, letting her gaze take in her bone-friend.  “How on earth did you find one that fit you?”

Stretch chuckled to himself, laying the last present under the tree before starting to come close to her.  “I’ve always dressed up as Santa throughout the years.  Just in case Sans happened to spy me. Had to keep the magic going for him.” he explained, a small sparkle lighting in his eyes.

Jen continued to giggle, looking at the threadbare, obviously fake, beard that hung like limp, broken streamers.  She could clearly see the pale string that he had used to tie it behind his skull.  The only illusion that held this Santa picture together was the darkness and the flickering light of the Christmas tree.  One which she had effectively ruined when she had turned on the lights.  But still, it was such a sweet thought, one that fit Stretch perfectly. He would truly do anything for his beloved brother. “The kids must not be leaving very good cookies out for you Santa, you’re nothing but bones.” She couldn’t help but continue to tease. This was the perfect opportunity after all.

Papyrus laughed quietly, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. She could feel his curved ribs underneath the get-up.  “Oh you know how it is, sweetness.  These days it’s all glutton-free cookies or the dreaded oatmeal raisin.  Health is in, goodness out.  Chocolate is becoming far too rare these days.” He fake lamented, resting his skull against her forehead.

“Then you should be lucky that I talked Sans into leaving you out honey cookies.” Jen grinned, nuzzling into the soft fabric of his jacket.  She could feel his soul gently thumping in his rib cage, calming her. Leaving her bad day in the crevices of her memories.  Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Even the suit smelled like his cigarettes and sweet honey.

It smelt of home, of where she belonged. 

“I’m very spoiled, indeed.” Papyrus said, a gentle finger urging her face up.  “Having both you and Sans here, on the Surface… it is better than anything that is underneath the tree.” He said.

She felt her heart warm and her face flush slightly, causing her to look down. It wasn’t out of embarrassment though. He always knew what to say to make her feel warm and happy. “Hey, when we get married at town hall, instead of that tuxedo t-shirt, you should definitely wear this instead.” Jen said, gently feeling the soft, red fabric of the coat. “It brings out the colour of your bones better.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Just for you.” Papyrus grinned down at her. “And now that I officially chased away the remains of your day, may I draw your attention to one thing?” He asked, pointing up at the ceiling, to a spot directly above them. Jen looked up, seeing a splash of green against the white ceiling. “Mistletoe,” he explained. “Seems like Sans was trying to get himself into the special Christmas spirit.”

Jen recognized the little plant. The white berried, green stemmed plant was indeed hanging from the ceiling, right beside the doorway. “Slight oversight on Sans’ part. He realizes that he would have to kiss everyone that he meets at the door, right?” 

Papyrus chuckled. “His dating manual had a quick little chapter on Christmas. Apparently if you meet someone under the mistletoe that means that the two people or monsters are destined to be soul mates. Live happily, ever after.” Papyrus explained, gently touched their noses together. “But talking isn’t what you do under the mistletoe.”

Jen flushed again, her warm blush darkening her cheeks, but she leaned forward to meet him halfway. Boney teeth gently touched her lips, magic crackling between the two of them, creating sparks that flew between the two of them. One of his hands crept up to her hair, tangling in the dark strands, urging her closer to him as he gently nibbled on her lips.  She gasped quietly, her mouth opening slightly, and allowing access to one another. Slowly their tongues beginning to tangle, beginning to play. His other hand still gripped the small of her back, pulling her even closer to him, pressing her into his rib cage, deepening the kiss further. Thoroughly tasting each other, lost to the world.  All that mattered was this kiss, each other, not the snow that howled or the cookies on the table.  So lost were they did not hear the little pitter-patter of feet coming down the stairs…

“Santa… what? And Jen? Jen, what are you doing?” Sans asked, rubbing at his eye sockets before squinting at them in surprise. Papyrus and Jen pulled back away from each other as if burned, staring with wide eyes at Sans. He looked terrified and slightly horrified. “But….” he turned up the stairs, already calling for Papyrus.

Jen looked to Papyrus, who looked as surprised and shocked as she did. “Great. Now what?” she asked him. Papyrus, for once, didn’t have an answer, or even a pun. With a small sigh, he shook his head.

Well. A very merry Christmas to them. Jen sighed quietly, shaking her head. Perhaps she could have asked the patrons at the bar how they would have dealt with this next time she saw them.

“Well, while he’s upstairs, how about I give you this?” Papyrus asked, handing her a small present.

“Shouldn’t you be going after him? Damage control?” Jen asked, hesitantly taking the box.

“That’s why you need to hurry.”

With a sigh she ripped the red paper, quickly removing the removing the ribbon. Upstairs, Sans was calling for his brother. On one hand she should be proud of Sans, standing up and looking out for his older brother. On the other… she opened the box. 

She blinked, looking at the cotton fibres. Her plastic ring was nestled there, like it  was in a little nest. Threaded through the band was a thin silver chain, one that was made either of sterling silver or stainless chain. All those days looking for it, and he had it the whole time?

Jen looked up at Papyrus, intending to give him shit when she realized he was kneeling before her. A small, white box was opened, and a small gold band and black onyx glittered at her. “Jen… I’m still not put together, I’m still a mess, and I’m still completely addicted to you… will you please…?”  


**Author's Note:**

> If you like what I do leave me a like and a comment!


End file.
